


The End of the Beginning

by AnOddSock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (only mentioned), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angel Sigil Tattoos, Angel Wings, Blood and Injury, Bondage, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Bruises, But that might be too kind a description, Butt Plugs, Chains, Come Marking, Confinement, Consort Castiel, Demon Dean Winchester, Evil Dean Winchester, Evil Sam Winchester, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Forced Submission, Handcuffs, Hurt Castiel, Implied/Referenced Torture, Isolation, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Torture, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Bondage, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Imbalance, Prostate Massage, Rape, Scars, Sort Of, Strangulation, Top Sam Winchester, Whipping, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, Winged Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 09:16:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnOddSock/pseuds/AnOddSock
Summary: Long after Sam and Dean had fallen to their roles in hell, they went looking for a new source of entertainment. An old comfort; brought back into their lives to bring them new pleasure. An angel, theirs for the taking.Cas, captured and tortured, finds new lows at their hands. The Winchesters want to turn him into a stunning vision of depravity, and they’re not afraid to get their hands dirty to do it.





	The End of the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [omgbubblesomg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/gifts), [troubleseeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/gifts), [outoftheashes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashes/gifts).



Castiel looked over the room he was being kept in. Nothing had changed since the last time he’d opened his eyes. It was a completely circular stone chamber with a door a third of the way around from where he was chained. Two large torches burned in brackets on the wall; they were the only source of light. It had been a while since someone had come in to replace them but they hadn’t entirely burnt out yet.

He sighed and closed his eyes again. Sleep wasn’t necessary, even with his depleted grace, but he took as much time as possible to rest. There was no telling how long it would be before they were back.

Cas had no sure way to know how long he’d been here; weeks at least. Possibly months. He was weary. He needed… something. A change, a friend, a reprieve. It wasn’t just a physical weariness, although that was part of it, but a dulling of his hope. The Winchesters were stealing his faith away little by little. His clear vision of being able to save them from themselves was fading. Mostly, now, he was just angry. Bitter at the taste they left in his mouth and his being.

He could use anger too, though. Bolster himself with it. Ground himself with it.

Cas thought about the moment of his capture, how different it could have been. How they’d lured him into a trap; he thought he would be saving an innocent when in reality they’d laid a trail for him to find. Snatched him up, knocked out with Sam's power and then he’d woken here.

They’d kept him inside a ring of burning holy oil for two days while they found other ways to contain him. Eventually they’d found binding sigils to keep him locked in his vessel. Made human, at least in strength and sensation, with the added bonus of never dying and never needing food or water.

It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but better than lingering on everything they’d done since. Or wondering what they might do next. Sam and Dean had been his friends, his closest - and often only - allies. He wouldn’t stop holding onto that thought until he had to.

Cas shifted his weight a little. He missed being free to move. At the moment his arms were stretched, chained high above his head, while a rope snaked around his waist keeping him seated on the floor. He rested his forehead against the cool stone, brought a breath in and out. The sensation of breathing was still new. He liked it in a strange way, it was something to focus on when everything else became too raw.

Minutes passed like hours but all too soon there was the creak of the door opening. Voices caught Cas’s attention but he didn’t bother opening his eyes. He heard the telltale sounds of the torches being replaced. And then an amused tone from behind him.

“Not even going to acknowledge me, Cas? I’m sure you haven’t talked to anyone else yet today.”

Cas turned his head, opened his eyes and took in the form of Sam Winchester. He was slouched against the wall, a sly grin across his face as he watched Cas like a hawk. 

Cas refused to quail under his gaze. Worries about nakedness were for other beings. Skin was just skin. Even if it was an expansive canvas for Sam's whips and Dean's blades.

Sam shrugged, walked close to Cas and titled his chin up.  
“I see it you know. Even if you don't think I do. The way you want to flinch. The way you want to cower. You're not as immovable as you think.”

Cas looked steadily into eyes tinged with yellow power, “I haven't been freely mobile in quite some time, as you may have noticed.” he rattled the chains for good measure.

Sam grinned wider. Too wide. A slice of dark across his face.  
“I never appreciated your sense of humour when I was human. Wonder how long you'll keep it?”

“You're still human, Sam. As much as you try not to be.”

“You'd like to think so wouldn't you? I'm not sure you understand how far I’ve fallen.”

“I am somewhat aware.” Cas said sadly. His voice was hoarse; too much time spent screaming recently. He hoped, even as he tried not to have preferences about his torment, that they wouldn't fuck his mouth today.

Sam lapsed into silence as he worked the knots free from around Cas’s waist. Cas itched to stand and ease the tension from his arms but didn't risk it.  
He'd tried to work himself free from the sigils they'd tattooed on him in the beginning. Tried to scratch them out, dig out the poisonous ink they'd used. That was how he'd ended up denied free reign of his hands in the first place. There was no point bringing Sam's attention to that predicament now.

Sam released the tension in the chains holding Cas, before he reached for them and pulled him to the centre of the room.

“Gonna need you on your back today. Shame for you huh? Still marked up pretty bad back there.” he ran a hand over the welts covering Cas's back and Cas hissed in pain.

He attempted to jerk away and earned himself a series of blows to his torso. In the haze of breathless confusion Sam pinned Cas to the hard floor, a knee on his chest and on one outstretched arm. Pain lanced through him at the contact of his back to the floor. Cas grimaced while Sam fastened his manackled hand to a ring in the stone.  
With his left arm secured at a right angle to his body, Sam yanked the other into position.

The room was only around fifteen feet across and spread across the floor Cas covered a large percentage of the space. 

Sam returned to straddle Cas's body, something dark in his eyes. Sam loathed it when Cas fought back, wanted him pliant and in his place. Dean, however, loved the struggle. It left Cas not knowing what to do for the best most of the time.

“How much does that hurt Cas? Laid on all those lash marks? More or less than this?” He pressed a cruel hand to the binding spellwork tattoo covering Cas's upper torso. 

Cas gasped, “More! It hurts more than that.”

“Really? Must be bad then.”

Cas nodded.

“Words Cas, tell me how it feels.”

“The sigil, it's like an old bruise.” Cas had a lot of experiences with bruises lately to know, “The whip marks are… raw.”

Sam smirked. He traced a finger over the slightly raised marks of the binding sigil. Pressed harder at random points. Cas held his breath until Sam was done.

The sigil would never heal. They made a point of reminding him. It was inked with their blood. Cas had watched them drain their life force into a pot before it was mixed with other ingredients that included a melted angel blade to keep his vessel from ever healing the markings. It had burned maddeningly going in; the needle pushing the fire hot, red tinged liquid into him.

Sam stood gracefully, exited the room briefly, and came back in hauling a box. Cas pulled experimentally at his tethering chains while Sam was distracted, his welts rubbed on the rough floor and he squirmed.

Sam crouched back beside him and roughly took hold of his jaw, “I'd hold still if I were you.”

Cas ceased his movements and watched uneasily as Sam emptied the box of items Cas couldn't see. 

“Dean and I have made some decisions about what to do with you. How to best make use of you. We've been softening you up, and I think you're ready to take the next steps.”

Castiel mentally catalogued the injuries he was recovering from. The whipping, the bruised ribs, the knife cuts, the chafed wrists and ankles. Those were just the worst. His body had taken a battering, and Sam's words didn't lie. He wasn't as strong as he had been.  
His body healed quicker than a human’s would, but he still felt everything. 

Sam caught his eye, “Nothing to say?”

“I'd prefer you not to hurt me but I doubt saying so will change your mind.”

“Very true, we don't need your opinion or co-operation. It might go easier if you'd give in though.” 

Sam leered down at Cas and leaned over to bite at his lips; gripped his throat so Cas couldn't turn away. A squeeze of Sam's hand had Cas gasp and the instant his mouth opened Sam drove his tongue harshly into Cas’s mouth. He barely left Cas room to breath, biting and sucking until Cas shuddered and kicked out uselessly with his legs.

Sam pulled away laughing softly “It's so easy to make you do what we want anyway. It really doesn't matter.”

Cas glared and tried to regain a steady heartbeat as Sam turned back to the box. Cas tentatively raised his head in an attempt to see what Sam had planned but a hand in his hair forced his head back to the floor with a crack.

“ _If I were you I wouldn't move._ ” Sam hissed.

Cas stilled. He watched the delight dance in Sam’s eye at being obeyed and curled his fists until his fingernails dug into his palm.

Sam held a large hollow needle up to the light, twirled it around his fingers. “So, you still heal pretty quickly right?” he glanced down at Cas, “The chances of you getting an infection are small?”

Cas nodded, “That does seem to be the case, yes.” he paused, and added “Where were you thinking of putting that, Sam?”

“That’s good, we can do this the fun way then.” Sam smirked.

He bent over Cas’s chest and sucked a nipple into his mouth. He teased and worried at it until it hardened, and licked around it with his tongue. 

“Remember what I said?” he asked.

“Don't move.” Cas replied.

Before Cas could even begin to flinch Sam drove the needle through his flesh, it stung and Cas felt drops of blood welling up. Cas hissed through his teeth as Sam fed the needle through his nipple, and then quickly worked a hoop through the hollow length. Sam pulled the needle out and clipped the ring closed.

Cas stared. And stared. Sam caught him looking, and flicked the ring. It smarted and Cas arched off the floor at the pain.

“Wh-why are you doing this?”

Sam just grinned and set to work on his other nipple, cleaning the area with his mouth - if such a thing could ever be clean - and pierced that too. Cas screwed his eyes shut, part in anger, part in horror. 

Cas snapped his eyes back open at the feel of a new weight added to the throb in his chest. Sam had attached a silver chain between the rings.

“No!” the word left Cas’s mouth before he thought it.

“No? No what?” Sam asked with a hard edge to his voice.

Cas ground his teeth, “You will not control me like this.”.

“Like this?” Sam hooked two fingers under the chain and twisted. Cas grunted and writhed; with no way to move and ease the pain except to arch his back. Sam pulled until Cas had his entire upper body strained off the floor and held him there. Cas panted and a high whine escaped his throat.

“I think this works pretty well actually.” 

Sam released the chain and Cas fell back to the ground, breathing hard.

“You won’t -” he began.

Sam cut him off with a hand over his mouth, “I will do whatever I want, and you have no choice but to take it. Isn’t that what you’ve been learning all these weeks? These _months?_ You’ve already had us take every part of you, corrupt almost every part of you, pull you to pieces and leave you to scrape yourself back together.” he paused, “Don't you want to give in yet?”

“I won’t break. Not like this. Not from this.” 

“That’s not what I asked, and you know it. Don’t you _want_ to give up, to not fight anymore? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“No!” Cas spat back. 

“Before the end of today I think you'll say different.”

Sam moved down to the other end of Cas’s body and placed himself between Cas’s legs. Cas groaned quietly to himself, the pain in his back and his chest were plenty to deal without Sam making use of him too.

Sam trailed a finger around his rim, pushed a little on the plug seated inside his hole. Cas fought to keep himself still, not to react. 

“I love seeing you ready like this, not sure I could’ve ever imagined it before but I don’t get tired of it.”

“Well that makes one of us.” Cas snapped.

Something flickered in Sam’s eyes, harsh, the yellow glow grew a tiny bit brighter. He stood without speaking and dragged something heavy towards Cas’s ass.

“Up.” he commanded.

“What?”

“Lift your hips, now.” Sam grabbed Cas by the balls before he could react further. Cas yelled, pushed off the floor with his feet to follow the tug of Sam’s hand. Sam directed him up until only the tips of Cas’s feet were left on the floor and then shoved a large wedge shaped piece of wood under Cas’s ass.

He released his hold on Cas’s balls and Cas rested back against the smooth surface of the wood. Sam rearranged it until Cas’s ass was positioned hanging off the wide end of the wedge and secured his thighs and hips with leather straps to the outside edge. It wasn’t comfortable. His shoulders and neck pressed into the floor at an odd angle, his body half raised off the ground but fully supported, and the edge of the wood dug hard lines where his legs hung over the lip.

The position it left him in made Sam’s plans incredibly obvious.

“Perfect.” Sam said, and knelt down between the spread of Cas’s legs. 

Castiel held his breath. He waited for rough hands and a punishing thrust. He expected new bruises, a harsh grip, demeaning words. What he got was a gentle caress of fingertips as they trailed across his thighs. What he felt was Sam’s hot breath, and soft lips; a kiss to the head of his cock.

Cas looked, alarmed, at Sam - draped between his legs with wicked eyes and a cruel smile. Cas jerked, pulled at his stretched arms and bound legs, bumping his scarred and ruined back against the floor. He winced and grunted, had a question on the tip of his tongue, wondering why Sam was being, what was this, _kind?_

Sam snaked out a hand and caught hold of the chain between his nipples, gave it a sharp jerk that made Cas gasp.

“Stay still, Cas, eyes on me. Today is all about making you feel good.”

“I don’t believe anything you pass off as good would be worth whatever pain you planned next.” Cas said. He held onto the solid feel of the floor against his back to steady himself as Sam began to work the plug slowly out and back in.

“You’re smart, but like I said, just watch me.”

And Cas did, he watched as Sam methodically worked his hands around the most sensitive parts of his flesh. He looked at the concentration on Sam’s face as he felt the stretch and pull of his hole. He gulped in surprise when his cock twitched as Sam picked up the pace and ran fingers around the length of him.

Without warning Sam leaned forward and gripped Cas’s chain, yanked fiercely until Cas growled a low scream from the back of his throat. His cock lost interest. Cas breathed harshly.

And then Sam started all over again.

After the third time Sam pulled torturously at the chain to dampen Cas’s arousal the door opened and Dean appeared next to Sam.

He looked over the set up Sam had devised, eyes flicked to black as they roved over Cas’s body. “I see things are going well.”

Sam nodded, “Did you get what we need?”

Dean ran a hand through Sam’s hair and hummed his agreement, Sam leaned into the touch. Cas’s stomach roiled. Seeing the two of them touch, together, so in tune as they were was such a perversion of their bond. He wouldn’t say it was worse than the torture they inflicted on him, but it hurt Cas too.

“Someone isn’t happy to see me.” Dean stated, stepped closer and nudged Cas with his booted foot. “I’d treat people a little more kindly if I were you. Say hello, be polite.”

Cas scanned his face for a second, never sure of the game. Did Dean want a greeting or the chance to hurt Cas for denying him one the most?

“Hello Dean.” 

“There he is, obedient angel.” Dean had something in his hands that he passed off to Sam before he straddled Cas's prone form.

Dean’s weight was heavy on his abdomen and Cas grunted, tried to shift.

“Sammy, these look awesome! We should've prettied him up sooner.” 

“He doesn't like them much.” Sam said.

“No?” Dean turned questioning eyes to Cas “Not a fan of your present?”

Cas looked between the two brothers and tried to find his voice. The two of them together on the same page about his treatment set his nerves rattling.

“It wouldn't be my choice, no.”

“Good thing you don't get a say then.”

Dean splayed himself across Cas, and lapped at his nipple. He caught one of the rings between his teeth and tugged. Cas grunted and tipped his head back, searched for the dark shape of the ceiling high above.

He noticed with curiosity a silent exchange between the brothers before Dean returned to teasing the new wounds in his chest and nipped at his throat. Dean’s hand caressed over his skin, nails scraping across Cas’s chest but not with their usually ferocity. Dean’s wasn’t attempting to hurt or scar, only to stimulate.

Just as Cas grew accustomed to Dean’s strange assault Sam began to fondle his balls. Cas drew a sharp intake of breath and squirmed under the joint pressure. 

They attacked him like this, slow and steady, until Cas was zinging head to foot. The brush of knuckles up the side of his cock had it begin to harden as energy trickled down the length of his spine.

Until Dean grabbed the chain with both hands and twisted it around, Cas screeched and arched his back. Arousal chased away once more. 

Dean looked down at Cas with a satisfied smirk and Sam flicked at the underside of his cock. Cas jolted, tried to catch his breath. They didn’t give him time.

They worked him over again, Sam dug his long harsh fingers into Cas’s hole - plug long since discarded - and rubbed his prostate, watched carefully for the moment Cas’s cock began to fill out. And then Dean tugged lightly on the chain over and over until Cas moaned muffled pleas, and his erection was long gone.

Dean bit at his collar bone, made Cas groan under the pressure of his teeth. He sucked punishingly at Cas’s neck until it hummed with blossoming bruises and just a light trail of his fingers made Cas shiver.

Cas tried fruitlessly to close his legs, muscles straining against the straps while Sam refused to care and pumped Castiel’s cock with long strokes of his fist.

The cold against his skin as Sam pulled away, as Dean eased back with the chain in his fingers, made Cas moan even before the pain flared brightly.

Time stretched before Cas and the possibility of either Sam or Dean losing interest came and went. At first they stopped off with an abrupt edge, stimulation changed from sweet to sour in an instant. Pain overtook pleasure like a lightning strike.

The longer they worked at him, the quicker Cas writhed, grunted at the pain and whined at the pleasure. Many times later, Dean teased at his tortured nipples long after any arousal had fled, pulled, flicked, and bit at them until Cas yelled for him to stop.

“You want me to stop?” Dean asked with an air of innocence.

“Yes!” 

“You want us to tease you again?” Sam asked, peering around Dean to look at Cas.

“No, pl-, no.”

“Okay.” Dean said and he began to pull on the chain again. It _hurt._

“Stop, alright, stop, anything else. Do… -“

Dean looked at him. Cas began to pick up on the game; they would make him beg. He really wanted to stop the pain, his back burned and his muscles ached and the sharp twang from his chest was too much.

“Tease me.” he ground out through his teeth.

And they did.

Sam sucked his balls into his mouth, and worked fingers into him and blew hot breath on his cock. And Dean brushed his lips over every inch of Cas he could reach while straddling his waist, nibbled at his jaw and pulled Cas's lips between his teeth.

Cas’s cock filled out completely, bobbed up to his stomach and Sam licked his way up the length, tongue hot and heavy. Cas arced into the touch, heat grew in the pit of his stomach and then a rough hand circled the base of his cock and squeezed. Another pulled his balls down away from his body and Cas groaned.

“No angel, you don’t get to come. Not like this.” Dean spoke quietly into his ear.

Cas was held like that, perched on the edge of release but denied until his groans turned into a scream.

“Tell us what you want, Cas.” Sam demanded.

“Stop, stop. Let me, _let it be over._ ”

And they obliged.

Dean yanked again at his nipple chain and Sam squeezed his balls mercilessly. His erection didn’t flag, not entirely, but Cas lost the feel of it, the need that ached from it.

He whimpered, Dean pulled harder and for longer. Cas grunted and squirmed, banged his shackled wrists to the floor as he spasmed.

They didn’t stop until he begged again.

Cas lost count of how many times he went through the cycle. He began to gasp and ache for more, for Sam to take him further, for a crescendo. He longed for Dean to touch him harder, to grind into him until there was no space between them.

They made him scream for every increase. Watched him writhe until he begged for release.

Hours passed. Cas floated, caught tight in the circle of flickering torchlight and hands that hurt, mouths that pleased. The torture began to meld into the pleasure, the tugs on his nipples started to keep his arousal flowing. His nerves confused one thing for another until Cas didn’t know why he begged.

The pleasure play didn’t end abruptly anymore, Sam just changed tactics each time his cock began to leak precome. Touched him but not where Cas needed it most.

Sure and careful hands prevented him from coming. Always holding him right when he thought that this time, _now_ he would burst, _now_ it would happen.

Cas sweated, he cried. Sobs left his lips unbidden and Dean caught them with kisses.

Dean moved off to the side of him, his weight suddenly missing from Cas’s stomach. Cas opened eyes he hadn’t meant to close, Dean held his face.

“You want to come, right?”

Cas pieced the words into his mind until they made sense to him. He nodded.

“Ask us for it.”

He didn’t want to, didn’t want this.

“It’s the only way, we’re not even close to tired.” Sam grinned up at him.

“Please,” his voice was broken, “let me, I - I want to come.”

Their hands were back, moved over his skin where he shivered.

“Beg me to fuck you.” Sam said.

“Beg me to ride you.” Dean whispered “It’s the only way you’ll come.”

Cas shook his head. Never. He wouldn’t, could he? He couldn’t ask them to, want them to. A tug on his nipples had him careening off the floor. A finger in his hole worked over his prostate while Sam’s hand gripped his cock in a death-lock.

Cas whimpered and shook his head again.

“Think we should show him what he’s missing?” Dean asked Sam.

“I think we could, think we could make him _eager._ ” Sam rose and circled around to Cas’s head and freed his own cock from his pants. He ignored Cas’s whimpers as Dean took up position pinching the base of Cas’s cock. “Think I should bend you over him and show him what’s in store. Fuck you ragged until our pretty boy angel here wishes it was him impaled on me.”

Sam knelt by Cas face, and wrapped a hand around his bruised throat. “Open wide.” He didn’t wait for Cas to answer, just squeezed his hand and shoved his semi hard cock between Cas’s lips. Cas gagged and moaned, Dean ran his free hand tenderly around his nipples and Cas yielded to the touch.

His throat relaxed and Sam thrust into it. 

“Suck me off Cas, get me nice and wet.” Cas gagged, tried to swallow, laved his tongue down the vein of Sam’s cock as his throat and tongue worked against the intrusion. Sam pushed lazily in and out of his mouth. And Dean didn’t stop, hand and mouth worked maddeningly in sync and Cas was lost.

He tried to hold onto the idea that he was more than his body, that this wasn’t all there was to his life; his being. But everything he could feel told him otherwise, he was nothing but pain, want and lust and torture all wrapped up in the arms of the Winchesters.

Cas soon realised his mouth was empty, jaw still hung open as he breathed raggedly.

A weight leaned up against his midriff and his eyes focused on the sight of Dean, naked now and laid crossways over him - spread open and waiting while Sam lined up behind him. Dean winked at him, wrapped a hand around the chain between his nipples and crooned for Sam to fuck him.

Sam didn't wait, he shoved into Dean full force and Dean rocked under it even as he tried to push back. The jolt pushed Dean further over Castiel’s body, rubbed Dean’s skin against Cas’s. Sweat slick and trembling, the contact rose the heat of Cas’s arousal even higher.

Cas cried out and attempted to twist away. Stopped short by his bound form he panted, and bore witness to the one thing he’d not seen here yet. 

Sam fucked Dean effortlessly; like it was the most natural thing in the world. Dean made pleased sounds, grin gone feral and gaze hooded. They didn’t talk but moved as one, and the sound of skin slapping against skin, and Dean’s groans and Sam’s heavy grunts filled the small room. It bounced off the circular walls until there seemed to be a continuous feedback loop. It filled Cas’s mind and his body responded to the groans and slick-slide sound of flesh as if he was just as stimulated as ever.

He moaned and yelped and couldn’t calm down. Every thrust forward made Dean careen over him, hands gripped tight around his thigh and his chain. The tug on his nipples was harsh and Dean’s other hand bruising but it only served to stimulate Cas further.

They went on and on, drove each other to the brink and pulled back, and leered and whined down at Cas. Taunted him even without trying.

Sam leaned over his brother, pushed Dean flat over Cas’s stomach and reached for Cas. He cupped his cheek, thumb pressed painfully into the hollow beneath his eye, held him steady with his gaze and his hand. Sam rolled his hips, jostling Dean. Cas cried out, and tears squeezed out the corners of his eyes to trail down his face.

“Tell us what you need Cas. Tell us what you can’t do without.”

Cas, finally lost to his body, let the words tumble slowly, haltingly, out.

“Please. Please! I can’t, I can’t, no more. Use me, make me come. Make it stop make me better, let me come.”

“Almost,” Sam murmured, “you’ve almost got it. Beg me for it, beg for my cock in your ass and Dean tight around yours. Tell me what I want to hear.”

“Fuck me.” Cas said, and then screamed it when Sam jolted them all against the floor, “Fuck me! Dean, please, get on me, let me, let me come, let me - ” 

Dean laughed and pushed Sam off, “All you had to do was ask, feathers.”

Cas whined and writhed as all stimulation ceased while they arranged themselves over him, behind him.

Dean, stretched and fucked out, placed himself over Cas’s hipbones. Cas could see Sam lining up between his legs, and he shifted, tried to close the distance between them.

“No coming until we say.” Sam said, a threat in his voice that Cas couldn't ignore.

After he took a firm grip on Cas’s legs Sam eased forward. His cock bumped the edge of Cas’s rim and Cas gasped, and then he pushed in. A little at first, soon more, and then with a lurch buried himself deep. 

Cas yelled, breathless in a moment and shuddering. Sam moved, rolled sideways, eased out and bottomed right back in. Broken sounds left Cas’s lips as Sam moved and his arousal, his denied release grew bright and deep again. He didn’t think it could get higher.

Just as he was on the verge of screaming, Dean lifted up and sank easily down onto Cas’s cock.

Seated back where he was a moment before, but now with Cas fully inside him, he rocked. 

Cas mouthed soundlessly at the dual feel of them. Stuck fast by his chains and Dean’s weight, Sam’s hard grip and harder cock, he came apart.

Cas whined, louder, headier, lost in it. Barely held together as his body built into a scream.

A hand plucked at his chain and the tug had Cas rising off the floor. Dean hummed low, lifted himself up and down Cas’s cock, matched Sam’s thrusts to a perfect beat.

Cas could hardly see straight, but forced his eyes to Dean’s face, Sam’s hovered just behind.

“Let go, come for me.”

And Cas did.

The scream that left him as his orgasm reach fulfilment drowned out everything else, he writhed seemingly without end and jet after jet pumped out of his cock. Dean was gone and the spurts landed on his own chest.

At the peak, at the crest, Cas felt hands on him, a blade nicked his skin and drew blood, Sam spoke low and fast and Cas yelled wordlessly through it.

And then pain hit. Pain like Cas hadn’t felt in eons. 

It ripped out of his shoulders, unfurled like fire down his spine and his scream turned into a bloodcurdling roar. 

Blinded and weak, he trembled, the scream caught in his throat and he couldn’t breathe around it. Blackness crept into his vision, the pain dulled, and a voice near his ear said his name.

“ _Cas_ , Cas you’re beautiful. And your _ours_.”

It was the first time Dean had called him by name since they’d taken him. The first time a hint of his old softness crept onto the tone.

Cas sobbed. Not like this, not after what they’d just done.

He felt the soft brush against his shoulder, the shapes beneath his back, and his mind rebelled at the prospect. 

_His wings._

Not here, not like this, not after this. And yet it all made sense. The build, the pull forced on his body. They’d made everything sing until it resonated with his grace. It would be the perfect moment to force his wings into being, to make them take physical shape.

Cas tried to gather his thoughts inward and move his mind to the state needed to release his winged forms back into the liminal space they should occupy.

There was a cry, a shout, and Cas was almost there, almost had it.  
Two sharp points rammed between the bones of his wings and Cas’s ruined throat tore again as he screamed, mind empty of all but the new pain.

When Cas came back to the surface of his mind, eyes blurred with tears and unsure, he blanched at what he saw.

There was an angel blade driven through each wing. Buried to the hilt and pinioning them. A whimper escaped, and then a sob.

“You can't, don't please, please, Dean!” he implored, searched the darkness for his friend. He found Dean crouched over his arm and fastening a leather harness around his bicep.

Dean looked at him, and his eyes turned black. “Little late for crocodile tears baby, you already gave in to us.”

Cas watched numbly as Dean secured straps around his arm, brown leather etched with angel proof sigils. Cas turned his head and found Sam - smart, capable, Sam, who might listen to reason - buckling an identical harness to his other arm.

“Sam, this isn’t right. You mustn’t…” Cas said, voice cracked and barely louder than a whisper.

“We already did.” Sam answered simply. With morbid fascination Cas watched as they spoke ancient words over the bindings. The fastenings slowly disappeared and left a seamless expanse of leather circling his upper arms. Metal rings were secured into it it at three points, one near his shoulder, one near his elbow, and one in between.

Cas swallowed, and reeled. He didn’t understand what they were doing to him, but he’d never get them off by himself.

Everything hurt, Cas’s whole vessel - no, _body_ , this was his body now, there was no leaving it - ached but the blades skewered through his wings flared newest and sharpest. Angel blades were a perfect weapon, the only thing that could damage them like this.

Cas shifted on the floor, felt how much less of his welted back scraped along the stones now that his wings were beneath him, and groaned.

His breath was shallow and Cas felt unconsciousness attempting to dig its claws into him. He fought to stay above the current, to be present and aware, to try and learn why they toyed with him.

They worked together now, both on his left side. There was a rattle and a clunk from the box Sam had brought in and Dean turned back to him with delicate silver chains in his hands. Sam moved into position above Cas’s head and held his wing in a firm grip.

Cas struggled, his nerves fired rapidly from the feel of hands on his wing. He’d never thought to imagine what it would feel like and it was worse than he could have anticipated. It was intimate, pleasure and heat rolled from Sam’s touch. Cas panted, curled into himself even as his body was splayed out for taking.

A small tug on his arm caught his attention and he rolled his head, heavy and weak, to see Dean threading a chain through the top loop in the leather harness. Cas stared at the metal as it glinted in the firelight, so caught up that he almost missed the moment Dean forced the links through the hole in his wing made by the angel blade.

The blade was pulled out and the chain dragged through, catching on the edges of the wound and Cas screamed again. It was raspy and thin, but he couldn’t stop. His wing beat frantically, pushed him halfway up onto his elbow, but Sam held firm.

Dean pulled the chain over the top of the wing forming a loop, clipped the chain closed, and sat back to admire his work. The blade was gone. Sam released his hold and Cas tried for a moment to pull his wing back into himself. To hide it, to close it. He realised too late that he couldn’t, it was chained to his arm now and there was spellwork in the chain that mimicked an angel blade - maybe it was made from an angel blade he thought dully - it was caught and held, bound to the band on his arm.

Words fell from Castiel’s mouth, ran like oil from his lips. Enochian and old dead languages, curses and pleas. Sam and Dean only looked at each other bemused until Cas found his way to English.

“You can’t, not this, this is sacred.” he lapsed again into unknown words, twisted and writhed, and ended with a small, quiet, “Please.”. Cas looked at them, imploring, but they’d already turned away.

Seconds later, or perhaps minutes Cas wasn’t sure, Dean appeared above him. He placed a hand firmly on the very top of Cas’s wing, and tucked a knee into the hollow of Cas’s neck.

“I’ve got him, do it quick though.” Cas, unable to turn from the weight on his throat, panicked. 

There was a pause and then blinding pain. Another stab into his delicate wing. Half mad with it Cas pushed into Dean’s hold, but his knee pinned Cas down and his hand was demon-strong on the wing.

Cas yelled, wordless pain and horror. Sam eased the blade back out and threaded another chain through the hole. Cas felt a small shift in the leather harness and heard a metallic clink.  
Dean didn’t ease his hold until they’d made another hole and produced another chain to pass through it.

When Dean stood back Cas couldn’t help but turn to survey what had been done. His left wing, fluttering without his say-so and trapped partly beneath his body, was chained to him. 

Something in Castiel crumbled. A wall he hadn’t known he had fell down to rubble. This was an entirely new kind of naked. To be on show like this, wing perverted and ruined. Tortured for someone else’s pleasure.  
A new pit of anger bubbled into life in him too, that Sam and Dean would do this was unthinkable. That it showed how far from their old selves they’d become was a torment all it’s own.

Cas blacked out somewhere during the time it took to pierce and chain his right wing, exhausted, terrified, and desperate. He struggled to wake as gentle hands caressed his face and brushed away fallen tears.

“We’re done now, angel. Don’t check out before the fun bit.” Angel. So they were back to Angel. His name another thing long gone the way of Dean’s soul, brought out only to toy with him when Dean thought it most effective.

“Come on Cas,” Sam’s harsh tone “we didn’t say you could sleep.”

Cas forced his eyes open. A full body shudder wracked him and the movement of his wings rattled the chains. He moaned, swallowed, asked the only thing he could think.

“Why?”

“Why not?” Dean asked back

Sam leaned down and gripped his hair, pulled his face up to meet Sam’s, “You’re ours Cas, and this is how we want you. You gave everything for the Winchesters before. You can give us this too.”

Dean trailed a hand down Cas’s side, he ran a finger over the knife wounds there. Cas flinched. 

“Feel our marks on you?” Sam asked. Cas couldn’t forget the way they’d carved their names into his skin, one on each side of his ribs. Over and over every time they healed they cut into him again. It had started to scar, a permanent mark while his grace was bound. “They show everyone who you belong to, and your wings show that you’ve completely submitted to us.”

“And you should see how good you look, god it’s such a turn on. Everything spread out for us, you’re such a tease.” Dean growled.

Cas blanched, anger flared bright - he swore at them, cursed them. And they laughed.

Dean moved down to his legs and worked open the straps that held him spread and bound. He removed the wood block and ran a hand between Cas’s legs, cupped his balls and fondled his soft cock.  
“Pain doesn’t do it for you?” he asked with a smirk.

Cas squinted “I would think you'd know that by now.”.

“We’ll have to try something else then won’t we?” Sam said.

He stepped over Cas, one foot on each side of his body, and scooped his hands under Cas’s armpits. He forced Cas to sit up, arms held wide by the chains, but all of his back - his wings - on show.

Cas reeled, took the chance to attempt to scurry backwards, pulled at his chains and grimaced as Sam moved closer. One finger, that’s all it took. Sam hooked it under the chain between his nipples and pulled it taut.  
Pain flared from his chest again, and Cas fell still. He breathed shallowly and glared at Sam.

They could restrain him so easily, so fully, and Cas hated it.  
“This is far beyond any torture, this is an abomination, you should not do this!” he ground out. Cas shook, and couldn't tell whether it was rage or fear, or maybe fatigue.

“Who’s gonna stop us, huh? You’re not really in a position to do anything.” Dean said simply as he shimmied back into his clothes.

Cas flinched at his words, at the truth of them.  
“Heaven will not allow this to stand.”

Dean’s bark of a laugh echoed around the chamber, around his cell, and if not for Sam’s nimble fingers that held him by the chain Cas would have cringed away. He knew it was a weak thought, there were no friends left to him.

“Heaven abandoned you long ago, feathers.” 

Dean circled around Cas and ran a finger lightly over the top of his wings. Cas shivered.

“Does that feel good?”

“No.”

“You sure?” Dean asked again.

“I think we could make you feel some things.” Sam said from above him.

Cas looked up, startled, and wondered if they knew what he’d been trying to hide. If they knew how sensitive to touch his wings were.  
Sam slid to the floor and placed a knee either side of Cas’s legs. Cas looked anywhere but his face, kept his eyes trained on the hand holding his chain instead.

Sam let go of the chain once he was seated in Castiel’s lap, and placed both hands instead on the top joint of his wings. His hands were uncomfortably close to the pierced holes and chains, a shift in the wrong direction would send pain lancing through him. Cas turned rigid.

Sam was careful though, just rested his hands lightly, let his warmth spread through the soft feathers. Cas’s breathing quickened and he couldn’t seem to get it under control.

He was so tired.

Dean stood behind Cas, his boots scuffed on the stonework as he shifted. Cas wanted to look and see what he was doing but couldn’t seem to lift his eyes from staring down at his own naked form. It was too much, they’d done too much and he needed a break to collect himself. 

He didn’t get one.

Dean traced fingertips over the soft, small feathers at the base of his wings. Cas shivered at the touch. Dean pressed harder as though working unseen knots from the muscles there.

Sam’s hands began to move, rubbing back and forth over the top of the wings, they bumped over the chains, caused tiny shifts. Cas grunted each time the chains moved and worsened the pain. But in between… in between it was more pleasurable. The nerves were over sensitised and new, sent the signals screaming back to Castiel’s brain.

It almost felt like his grace. Almost.

Sam’s hands wandered down and over Cas’s arms until he could reach for the longer feathers that hung below the chained portion of the appendages. He ran his hands through them, brushed over them.  
Dean leaned down and pressed a kiss between Cas’s shoulder blades, right where the wings sprouted from.

“Don’t!” Cas moaned out.

“I will,” Dean said back “I’ll do all this, all the time - whenever I want.”

“You make such a striking image, all this bound power, you can’t expect us to keep our hands to ourselves.” Sam crooned from above him.

Cas looked up and found Sam’s eyes watching him. Cas studied him for long seconds, looked at the power held there, inches from his own face. Dean may have been the one turned demon, but Sam unnerved Cas in a whole different way. He was calculated. Cruel with forethought, not at the whims of anger or venom.

Sam grinned. Wide mouth and toothy and his fingers grasped around handfuls of feathers, pulled down the length and released. Cas cried out at the duel feel of warm sensation and pain.

Sam smiled wider and Cas closed his eyes.

There was the sudden feel of a body pressed close to his chest and a sharp nip to his jaw. Sam worked his tongue over the bruises that had formed on his throat, nibbled at them, made them worse.  
Cas groaned, he tipped his head foreword and rested it against Sam’s shoulder.

He was weary.

Dean’s hands moved cleverly across the expanse of wings exposed behind Cas. He carded his hands through the feathers, pushed fingers deeps between the strands. Rubbed and fondled until Cas felt like he’d touched every part of them.

Sam had a hand on his shoulder, and one clinging roughly to a section of feathers on the opposite side.

“Stop.” Cas whispered. And thought it, over and over.

“Look,” Sam’s voice demanded of him. Cas shook his head.  
Sam ground his hips down against him and Cas could feel the hard push of an erection through the denim of Sam’s pants.

Dean gripped the back of Cas’s neck in a harsh hold, “Don’t make us ask again.” Cas opened tired eyes and made to lean back to see Sam’s face. Dean didn’t let go, prevented Cas from lifting his head and Sam just rolled his hips a second time.

“Seems like you’re getting as excited as we are.” he said as he cupped Cas’s jaw. Cas looked down and sure enough, his cock had begun to perk back up.

He gasped and Dean released him.

Sam laughed. Dean pressed his own thick, hard cock up against Cas’s back. Cas wondered if this was what it felt like to want to throw up. They were getting off again, _on this?_ But then, no, maybe they’d never got off at all. He’d been so lost in his own orgasm that he hadn’t noticed if either of them had come too.

As their movements continued his own erection grew. It was awful, and natural, and evil all at once. 

Cas felt heat move through him again, warming his aching muscles, and cursed his own ability to recover quickly. Sam never once touched his cock, neither of them moved below his waist, and yet it didn’t seem to matter.

They murmured praise that sounded like insults as they worked him over. Cas was raw, and he _needed_ , his body lit up in multitudes of ways to tell him it was too much - and not enough. He tugged at his chained arms and flinched from the touches. Any small shift of his arms moved his wings too. They were hobbled, he realised in shock, and yet bound in such a way that they would move when he moved.

Cas thought maybe he should cry again, he felt overwhelmed enough to. It was exhaustion, it had to be. Nothing came of it and he faltered, not knowing how to proceed.

Sam lifted his weight off Cas’s lap and Cas wondered where he might be going. There was a sound of a zipper, a hand on his shoulder, a voice in his ear.

“Gonna mark these all up, make them ours, just like you.”

Cas froze, mind trying to piece together the words.

“Stake our claim all over them, Cas. You know why? Nothing of yours is denied to us, you need to know that.” Sam murmured softly.

Cas growled, trepidation and hate vied for his attention. He turned his head ready to speak, to yell, and a hand struck him across the face.

“Eyes front Angel, keep nice and still.”

Cas didn’t stay still, he jerked and twisted, “Do not, don’t do this, you have to stop.” Sam’s hand grabbed one of the chains held fast around his wing and yanked.

Cas screamed again, and writhed. He panted while Dean’s hand caressed the opposite chain, “Want to try that again? Or shall I repeat the lesson?” Cas trembled, but held himself as still as stone.

“These might come in helpful,” Sam mused out loud as he patted the chains joined to Cas’s wings, “make you more obedient, like reigns on a horse.”

The implication was clear, and Cas’s stomach flipped at the prospect.

He heard both Winchesters breathing speed up, small pants and moans, the sound of flesh rubbing over flesh.

“You always give us what we need.You fit just right, here with us. And now everyone will see it.” Dean gasped, and Cas felt hot splatters hit his left wing.

Sam groaned and Cas felt the jets hit his right. There was weight against his back and Cas turned slightly to see Sam pressed up against him, panting as he pumped the last spurts from his cock.

Helpless to do anything else, Cas closed his eyes. So many new sensations so soon, and now his wings were coated and sticky, as their come dripped down the expanse of feathers.  
Dean laughed softly at some private joke that Cas didn’t care to know about. Soon hands returned to his wings and Cas flinched, a surprised sound left his lips before Sam wrapped a hand around his throat.

“Shhh, just got to work this through and then we’re done.”

“Done?” Cas asked blearily.

“We’ll give you a little break before we bring you out to show the crowds.” Dean answered. Crowds? They would parade him in front of people? Not people, he realised soon enough, demons. The entirety of hell was at their disposal. Cas burned at the thought.

Hands rubbed the drying semen into his feathers, fingers brushed it down the long lengths, pressed it deep to the roots. There wasn’t enough to cover his entire wings, but they spread it as far as they could, and massaged long afterward too.

“Maybe a day or so?” Sam asked, “What do you think, Cas?”

“Give you chance to rest up for the big reveal.”

Cas’s cock was twitching and aching, sensations spread right from his wings down his spine, and lingered between his legs.

Cas had lost his voice somewhere, as his mind took in the reality before him. He hadn't left this cell in all the time he'd been here. The thought of seeing something outside of this small room filled him with both hope and dread.

“No preference pretty boy?” Dean asked, suddenly before Cas as he touched Cas’s face and pried his eyes open. “‘Cause we could drag you out there right now if you want, all messed up and weak as a baby bird. Just keep quiet and that’s what we’ll do.”

Cas shook his head, swallowed, “Rest, yes, that would be… preferable.”

“Alright then, you can take a breather.” Something in Dean’s eyes as he said it caused panic to slip quickly through the cracks of Cas’s exhaustion.  
Dean returned to the box one last time, before he knelt before Cas. Cas watched him with his breath caught in his throat. Dean leaned over and licked around the head of Cas’s cock while his hand circled something cold and hard around the base.

Dean looked back up at Cas and grinned. Cas made a choked sound at the sight of the cock ring around his straining erection.

“You look nice like this, angel. So needy.”

There was a jolt near his wrist and Cas turned to see Sam unclip it from the floor. Cas was pulled roughly to his knees and Sam unchained his other arm. Without thinking Cas tried to move, tried to beat his wings. All they did was pull cruelly against the bindings, tug against the still fresh wounds, and he cried out in pain.

Sam pulled his wrists together at the small of his back, wings folded across one another, pushed past the feathers, and fastened his hands together. Cas struggled, jerked his shoulders and twisted his torso, as he tried to rearrange his wings into a more comfortable position. Squashed like they were wasn’t painful, more an itch that he couldn’t scratch.

Dean’s strong grip held him steady while he wrapped rope around Cas’s knees. In quick succession Cas was bent in half over his bound legs and Dean passed the rope through the chain between his nipples before tying a strong knot.

Cas tried to stretch on reflex when dean released his hold. The pain that sliced through his chest as his legs pulled away from his body forced out a shattered cry. Cas curled into a ball, willed his muscles to hold. The contorted position it left Cas in was extreme. 

“Dean!” 

“You rest, we’ll be back.”

Cas’s cock was trapped between his stomach and his curled legs, hard and left unfulfilled. His body zinged with want, and the harsh reality of this new position barely doused the flame of arousal they'd begun. His mind warred over which thing was worse.

“Don’t, don’t leave me like this!” it came out halfway between a plea and a shout.

“Like what?” Sam asked.

Cas lifted his head to try and look them in the eye but could barely angle his neck far enough.

“This, this ... it’s too much.”

“You’ll handle it, you handle everything we throw at you.” Sam said, cruel smile clear in his tone.

Cas moaned. Clenched and unclenched his hands in frustration.  
He heard their steps as they turned to leave and tried to hold on to anger instead of pain, arousal, and fear. The limit of his ability to hate their actions was tested daily, but this left a cold flow of dread coursing through him too.

“Wait, we forgot this.” Sam spoke up.

“That would've been a big fucking oversight!”

Cas saw their boots as they crowded around him again. They tipped him onto his side, arm and wing crushed beneath him, and spread his ass cheeks.

“Can't leave you without making sure you're ready for next time can we?” Dean said as he stroked a hand thought Cas's hair.

Smooth glass pushed at his rim, Cas gasped and clenched. A smack of a hand jolted him, and then Sam forced the plug into his hole with a satisfied sound. It brushed his prostate as it settled into place and Cas begged silently for relief.

“See you tomorrow beautiful.” Dean hummed softly.

And they left. Walked out the door, while Cas howled after them, rage and pain flung from his lips. He was contorted and mutilated, left in pain and misery.  
Soon they'd present him to all of hell. He wondered if the torments of this room would seem better or worse after that.

**Author's Note:**

> I've now written a fic for each member of Team Free Will where they're basically naked the entire time. So I've got that going for me
> 
> I added this as if it's only a one chapter fic, because currently I can't see writing any further past this point. But I'm not saying there would _never_ be any more, I'm just saying I can't currently envision what specific things would come next. (There's almost too many options!)  
>  I wrote this in a big stroke of inspiration where it flowed out pretty easily and I think I'd need the same thing to happen again to continue it.
> 
> If you want to try and give me inspiration you're more than welcome to ;) leave a comment or [come and find me on tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/oddsocksandstuff) \- I'm always happy to chat about smutty fic ideas


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